When Twilight Burns (37 page)

Sara moved toward Victoria, and she saw the blonde woman still carried the pistol that had stopped their escape earlier. Using its barrel, she pushed Victoria toward the door at the opposite side of the chamber.

Victoria hadn't been in this room before; in fact, she'd hardly noticed the entrance to it the two previous times she'd been in the throne room. The smell of blood was stronger here, and the space was lit, unlike the other, by two massive fireplaces—one at each end—and wall sconces. The flames danced black shadows on the stone walls so that they seemed to undulate in every direction. This chamber was much warmer than the other, nearly stifling with its heat.

Or perhaps it just felt that way because of the thick bloodscent, the leaping shadows, and the warm light.

The furnishings in this room included a long, low divan piled with cushions, tables and chairs, and, in the center, a dark shadow in the floor. On the other side of the shadow was another doorway.

A low growl caught Victoria's attention, and she turned to see three pairs of red eyes burning near the floor in front of one of the fireplaces. Six pointed ears cocked toward them, and then the three dogs rose, massive nostrils quivering.

The hair on the back of Victoria's arms lifted. They were huge wolflike canines with vampiric eyes and long fangs that curved outside their muzzles when closed. The head of the smallest one would be as high as her waist.

They streaked over to Lilith, who commanded them with a mere flick of her fingers. The dogs sat promptly, but their attention, Victoria now saw, was focused on Max…on the fresh blood that oozed down his skin. One of them was furiously licking, half biting, at the finger Lilith had drawn through the blood moments before, but the other two sat at attention: eyes sharp, ears perked, mouths closed, fairly vibrating with bloodlust.

“Now,” said Lilith almost kindly. “We shall see how strong you are, Victoria Gardella. And then it will be all over.”

A cold web of fear covered her as she breathed hot, bloody, sluggish air and felt a drop of perspiration roll down her back.

Everything happened very quickly, but Victoria could have done nothing to prevent it. Sara's gun barrel poked her in the side, and the dogs sat sentry in front of her as three vampires moved forward at Lilith's command. They placed heavy, clinking manacles on Max's wrists, crossing them together at his lap. When they first approached, he stepped back, his teeth baring ferally…but when Sara prodded Victoria with the gun, he acquiesced.

“That's it, Maximilian. Don't put an end to the experiment before it begins,” said Lilith. “And you need not worry, Victoria Gardella. I have no intent of harming your lover. This is merely a precaution so he does nothing foolish.”

Victoria looked at Max. His stony face gave no indication of what was in his mind. Even his eyes were flat and emotionless, and though he met her gaze, he gave her nothing else.

Nothing for her, but also nothing for Lilith.

The shadow in the middle of the floor turned out to be not a shadow at all, but a pit. As she realized this, Victoria turned cold again. She knew what awaited her.

Before she could think further, the three vampires who'd chained Max came toward her. She fought them with stake and foot and red-clouded desperation, but in the end she was subdued by two of them. She took little satisfaction in the pile of ash the other had become. Red burned her vision and her body trembled. Her mouth salivated. It took them all of their might to hold her steady when Lilith approached.

Her fangs dipped into her thin lower lip. It was purplish in color and the incisors left little dark dents, revealed when she smiled. Victoria held her breath, expecting anything…but not the sudden swipe of nails over her cheek and neck.

She felt the three claws dig into her face, and the burst of blood that followed as though it had been simmering below the surface…waiting.

And then, before she knew what was happening, she was flying through the air, falling down, down, down…into the black pit.

+ Twenty-six +

A View From the Stands

Max saw the scarlet weals
of blood erupt on Victoria's skin. It would be over very soon. Whatever it would be.

Damn her. Why in God's name did she come here?

At the scent of such fresh blood, the dogs surged to their feet, heedless of their mistress's command. They snarled and drooled and tore after Victoria, leaping into the hole where she'd been flung.

“Open your eyes, my dear Maximilian,” crooned Lilith near his ear. Her breath was hot over his flesh, almost liquid in its promise…and malevolence. The scent of roses was nauseating. “You needn't worry she'll die down there. I have the utmost confidence in her abilities. Now, come closer, so you can watch her at her best. She truly is magnificent.”

She prodded him forward, and he obeyed. He understood what Lilith meant to do, and his palms grew damp as his insides churned. Hot tears burned his eyes. The silver ring was heavy on his finger, yet useless, dammit. Bloody useless.

If there'd been one chance to get close enough to Victoria, he'd have lashed out, sliced her with it, eradicating Lilith's opportunity for entertainment.

Damn you, Victoria. Why didn't you stay away?

It would have been over by now.

You'd be safe.

He didn't want to look in the pit, yet he could not keep from doing so. It was a mass of snarling teeth and writhing fur, slender white limbs, flashes of pale skin and fabric. Victoria had her stake; he saw it rise and plunge, awkward and desperate, even as the dogs snapped and bit and surged. He cringed at her gasps and cries, and hoped when there was a canine squeal or shriek. God, he hoped.

Rather than mauling her all at once, the mastiffs seemed to come in waves…one after the other, lunging, biting, snarling, scratching, then rolling or dodging away in the pit to let the next come. The attack was so fast and relentless Max could make out no details…only that Victoria had not been able to rise from beneath them. And her stake had not yet been effective.

He didn't realize he was jumping forward, down, until a horrible jerk on his wrist manacles whipped him through the air, then slammed him back onto the ground, fairly yanking his arms from their sockets. Rough stone tore his skin raw as he skidded across the dirt and rock. Blood oozed from his wounds as he crawled rapidly back to the edge of the pit, feeling the strain of hard breathing coursing through him. If he could get down there, he needed only a moment, and the ring would do its job.

But another powerful drag pulled him back, sending him sprawling onto his spine, head whipping back hard onto the stones. He breathed heavily, looking up into the furious face of Lilith. “Do not try such a foolish thing again,” she said. “Or I'll release them fully.”

Max clambered to his feet, head pounding, fists clenched. He wanted to beg, his mouth formed the words, he drew in the breath to plead…but he knew it would do no good. Lilith would lap it up like her vampire dogs and stroke him like the pet he was…and she would do what she wanted anyway, reveling in his pain and using his weakness to control him, to destroy them both.

Christ Almighty, his weakness was two bloody women. The vampire and the Venator. The seductive evil incarnate and the feminine warrior.

There was a sudden sharp squeal and a soft explosion. Then quiet.

He surged to the edge again, looking back down into the blackness, hoping…Her white fingers were there, bloody, digging into the small cuts on the side of the pit, pulling her battered body up…not so far from the edge, and Max plunged his chained wrists down to help drag her up, heedless of Lilith standing behind him, of her triumph in seeing his weakness. There were no dogs left… only the smell of vampire dust on the air.

Victoria collapsed onto the ground at their feet. Her clothing was bloody and torn, her eyes glazed, her loose hair in a long, witchy tangle about her, red-streaked fingers still clutching the stake. Yet she pulled raggedly to her feet and blinked hard. Max could see her struggling to maintain her composure, to clear her vision.

And he saw more…he recognized the struggle going on beneath her skin, deep within. The need to go on, to destroy, to annihilate. His fists tightened. There was nothing anyone could do for her. She had to fight through herself. Wayren had told him all of the details that Victoria had not.

Holy God, let her be strong.

She drew a deep, shuddering breath and faced Lilith. Her eyes burned with anger, yet there was no red. Not yet.

Thank God, not yet.

Then, suddenly galvanized and hopeful, he fumbled with the ring, reaching toward her, ready to end it before she had to make the fatal choice…before she was battered any further, tortured, maimed, beaten…pushed over the edge.

But his chains were yanked again and he lost his fingering on the ring as he was forced out of reach of Victoria, tripping and stumbling into a heap. He closed the signet quickly before it cut his own flesh. There was only enough for one of them.

“Marvelous,” said Lilith, speaking to Victoria. “Absolutely marvelous, but nothing less than I'd expected from you. And quite efficient as well. I rather thought you might take longer than you did. Although I shall grieve for the loss of my companions, the outcome will be so much more valuable. And besides,” she said, her fangs pressing into her lip as her smile returned, “I have more to spare.”

As if that were a signal, the door on the other side of the pit opened and in walked the man Max recognized as Bemis Goodwin. He was holding the leashes of four more slavering canines, their ears pricked forward, their eyes burning red as they scented the blood.

“And now we shall finish this,” said Lilith.

Her eyes burned with excitement, and Max felt as though he were going to vomit. The room shifted and he tried one more time to lunge toward Victoria, releasing the tiny lethal blade of his ring…he needed only one small cut, just the barest nick.

But something caught around his foot, pulling back, and he slammed into the ground.

And then a woman screamed.

+ Twenty-seven +

The Choice

Victoria was barely aware
of Max slamming to the ground at her feet. She felt the need, the anger pulsing through her…red burning her eyes, blazing through her.

Her heart still pounded, sweat poured down her back and underarms. Lilith's red eyes glowed at her knowingly. Reveling in the battle as it billowed and surged inside her. She drew in a deep breath, touched the amulets beneath her torn tunic, and gasped with the power: pure, clean power.

The red faded, the rampant violence eased, she felt as though control was in her grasp. Triumph blasted through her. Lilith had been wrong. She'd underestimated Victoria, and now she'd come through whatever this test was—

And then she saw the four dogs. And Bemis Goodwin, standing on the other side of the pit. The dark, deep, horrible space. Slicing teeth and deep claws, the smell of evil, wet dogs as they came at her again, and again. Not to kill…to maim, to torture, to tear into her, but not enough for relief. Not enough to kill. Victoria couldn't hold back a shudder. It rattled her, made her weak-kneed and dizzy and dry in the mouth as she remembered fighting them back, and back, and back…

She felt the brush at her feet as Max tried to lunge back at her, and she focused on him, saw the blood and scrapes on his shoulder and chest, the torn flesh at his wrists. Yet her world was vague, and she moved as if in a dream…as though underwater, fighting through heavy waves, struggling to breathe…and then a sharp scream cut through the air.

Victoria whirled in time to see Sara shoved off the edge and tumbling into that horrible pit. The four dogs lunged after her, leaping down into the darkness. The scream filled her ears and Victoria raced to the edge of the pit. The dogs were on the woman, tearing into her as she tried to fight them off. The report of the pistol echoed in the small space, eerie and useless against vampiric canines.

Victoria inhaled bloodscent, felt the rush of fear, heard the screams, and fought it. She turned back to Lilith and found her watching with a slight smile on her face. A smug expression.

Screams, howls, barks…Victoria did not want to go back into that horrible place. Those sharp teeth, tearing and mauling…Sara begging and crying…the soft squeal of a dog hit by the butt of her pistol…

The red burned…images warred…Sara with the knife…sharp teeth…Sara standing over Sebastian, smiling…the blood…the smugness…cold calculation…the tearing of teeth into her flesh, she knew what it felt like…the pain, the release of blood

She couldn't do it. She
couldn't
…Kritanu's severed hand…the snarls filling her ears and face…pain…Victoria felt herself moving away from the pit…She couldn't go back there…pain…but Sara…her screams…she couldn't bear it…she deserved it…she would have cut them all…teeth, scoring…

Victoria leaped, praying and sobbing, falling down, down…she fought the fear, battling the red that threatened to overtake her. She landed on a furry back and barely had the presence of mind to use her stake. She heard a shriek above her, the fury of Lilith…and somehow that sound penetrated the wildness around her, and gave her strength. She'd won.

By God, she'd
won.

As she battled those monsters, slashing and fighting, praying and slashing, the red eased…it released her from the tension. She felt purity blaze through her, white and clear, pushing away the drive to kill relentlessly…the pleasure in pain.

The dogs seemed to sense her renewed purpose, her change…and they became more feral, no longer holding back. They no longer teased and tortured as they had done before, but lashed out, all at once, pulling at her, tearing into her flesh. The stake tumbled from her hand, rolling to the ground, and Victoria felt the soft paws pressing into her face as teeth and claws tore at her legs and arms, pulling at her hair. She rolled and kicked, thrusting at them, struggling to pull her other stake from beneath her trousers…and at last it was in her hand, heavy and solid, and she lashed out with it.